Boo Hoo Sun Slaves


The Snow Demons

are running amok

where I live

near Seattle.


I like the cold and the ice


I love

to hear

my Sun Worshipping friends

gnashing their teeth

and crying over their flip flops

banished under their beds



when they are pulled out from the darkness

and wept over, held by shaking hands


in the coldness, in the Winter

that has no end.

The Children of Wolves

There is so little air

left to  breathe

I have no where to stand

or to fall

into a heap

unnoticed or noticed

by her, by him by them

faces trapped in small screens.

Lost in the human race.



come to me

I know

on four paws.

Humanity saved by the Children of Wolves.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Daily Addictions Prompt: COPE



I Think I’ve Found It

When I was younger

my Dad told me

not everyone made it in life, that some people

were going to die

unhappy, unfilled and alone.


That was my legacy from him.


Now I just want to make it home from work


on time

to find my dog waiting for me at the door

with a smile on his face

Mozart playing on the radio

my laptop humming softly

waiting for me to create a world or two.


Legacies can be chains

knowing who you are

is the key

to unlocking them.


Daily Addictions Prompt: Ultimate


My Dark Companion

Rendered helpless by a  smile, a moment of conversation here and there rehearsed words practiced for lost years wormed their way into my ears

Undone by chaos enveloped in sweet promises sealed with a kiss that tasted like bitter chocolate, I hate chocolate sweet or not but I swallowed each drop, each buss hungrily

Ended in dust, witnessed by rats brought back to my own darkness by the promise of my Cacodemon, my constant companion now.

Inspired by the Daily Addictions Prompt RUE



Vexatious Foe

Photographer Unknown

Do you know where the monsters hide?

Do  you know where they plan and plot and dream?

You probably should know, wouldn’t it make your heart beat a little slower then it’s beating right now?

Wouldn’t that make you feel better?

Monsters been known to entomb themselves in dimly lit  basements with painted concrete floors  and  dusty spider webbed attics that smell like mothballs and dead mice  and under beds where you should be safe and warm.

Vexatious,  duplicitous, guileful

getting what they want, taking what they desire, terrorizing the weak of heart

 is not sport to them

it’s a puzzle to be worked


Do you know where the monsters hide?

Lean a little closer, let me put my lips to your ear

I’d be glad to tell you

it’s the most humane thing  I can do.